Leap of Faith
by The Smoose
Summary: Set after the break-up. They both took a leap of faith when they started this, one more literal than the other. T for language.


So, I thought I'd take a break from writing my newest ongoing fic as I started watching House last week (I tend to wait til American shows finish cos England has a habit of throwing the popular ones over to channels I don't have when they get a few seasons in), and when I got to season seven I had my heart ripped out, and seeing as how part of my new ongoing fic deals with breakup and drugs, I thought why not? So…enjoy!

* * *

"He jumped off his hotel balcony."

Cuddy heard the words, but refused to believe them.

"Come on, that's a low blow even for you." She retorted, sighing and arranging the files on her desk as she finished the day.

"He. Jumped. Off. His. Hotel. Balcony." Wilson repeated. "Into a pool. He's not doing well, Cuddy."

"When is he ever doing well?" she asked, but she couldn't help the way her heart stuttered when she realised Wilson was telling the truth.

Wilson laughed at this. "He was doing pretty well before you whipped the rug out from under him-"

"Oh for God's sake Wilson, give me a damn break." She snapped, throwing her files on the desk. "All he had to do was to not take Vicodin. Yes, he was doing fine, but then he _chose_ to rely on the drugs rather than on me." She took a breath and sighed. "And knowing he'd rather go back down that road is killing me, and you want me to take him back?"

Wilson remained quiet for a moment. She was right, of course she was, but she was also as stubborn as House was, and he knew they needed a push.

"Cuddy, I can honestly say that if you don't talk to him, it'll kill _him_." He said sadly, and quickly hung up. He turned to watch House, who was now asleep on the sofa, blitzed out from the alcohol and Vicodin and shook his head. It was down to Cuddy now.

The woman herself was torn. She'd tried to lock that part of herself away for the past few weeks, actively not thinking about him, and had been honestly relieved when he hadn't turned up for work. But she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been worried. Shaking her head, she gathered her things and headed out of her office, locking the door behind her and pausing for a moment.

She'd known as soon as she picked up the phone that she'd end up there.

* * *

"I'd ask what you're doing here, but as I seem to be missing a soon to be ex-wimpy-best-friend, I can do the math."

She'd knocked on his hotel room door for nearly ten solid minutes before he opened the door, looking like…well, shit. The bags under his eyes that were usually this side of attractive just made him look his age, and she could tell from his tousled hair and the presence of the bathrobe being his only attire that grooming hadn't been high on his list of priorities as of late. Cuddy took a deep breath and peeked over his shoulder, glancing at the mess of a room behind him and…was that blood on the floor?

"Can I come in?" she asked, sounding as tired as she felt, and he looked.

House squinted briefly and the corner of his mouth turned up. "Couldn't resist one last climb up Mount Greg, huh?" he said, leaning heavily on the door as his leg throbbed beneath the bathrobe he was wearing. "Can't blame you, I'm struggling to resist myself right now."

Cuddy sighed and closed her eyes briefly, already regretting her decision to come to his room. "House-"

"Actually," he interrupted her. "I think I'll take a rain check. But you did your duties as the worried ex, I'll let Wilson know." And with that, he tried to shut the door in her face, but she was expecting this and got her hand up to the wood just in time, locking eyes with him.

"Just let me the hell in." she snapped, shoving the door back open and brushing past him into the room.

House gritted his teeth and closed the door behind her, turning awkwardly to face her as she surveyed the mess he'd made – empty bottles lying on every surface, food and women's clothing all over the floor – and smiled. "See, I've been having a great time, how have you been, dear?"

"Wilson said you jumped off the balcony." She said, more a question than a statement, wondering if he'd really been that stupid.

House merely shrugged and hobbled over to the couch, sitting down on the fluffy arm to try and elevate the pain in his leg. "Wilson's eyes still work, that's good to know." He retorted. "What, you came to check on me? Make sure I wasn't going to try and kill myself again?"

"Is that what you were doing the first time?" she asked.

"Yeah, I jumped into a pool surrounded by people to kill myself." He snapped back sarcastically. "Why do you care anyway? You kind of refunded that right when you ripped my heart out through my eye socket."

Cuddy scoffed at him, staring him down, hands on her hips. "I don't need to be your girlfriend to care about you, House."

"Clearly." He growled back, eyes looking everywhere but at her. "Frankly, I don't want either of you here right now, so get out."

"You're a son of a bitch, you know that?" Cuddy spat, finally reaching the end of her rope. "It's _always_ about you, isn't it? Every time something goes wrong in anyone's life, it's about you. Even our breakup was about you. You broke us, House, not me, so don't give me that kicked puppy routine. You were the one who decided that drugs were a better solution that talking to me. And now you've got just what you wanted in the first place, you got your drugs back, and you're alone again. Enjoy." She shook her head and started to walk away, but House struggled back to his feet as she neared the door.

"You think I chose this?" he asked monotonously. "You think I woke up that morning and thought 'hey, well, being in love is great and all, but I'd rather be high and alone'?"

"What do you expect me to think, House?" she shot back, voice rising. "That's exactly what you did do."

"I was in pain!" he roared, jaw set as he stared her down.

Cuddy laughed and raised her eyebrows. "Well how strange is it that you managed just fine for over a year without the drugs?" she asked.

"I wasn't talking about my damn leg." House said through gritted teeth. "You don't know what its like, do you? To be scared to death of losing someone all the damn time, and then get told they might die. Do you know what that's like? Cos I do, and it sucks." His nostrils flared in anger. "I slipped up. I thought I was going to lose you, and I slipped up. I took some Vicodin because it fucking hurt to think about trying to live without you, and then…" he paused for a moment, lowering his head. "And then all I could think about was trying to live with you knowing that I'd fucked up yet again, weighing up whether it was worth the risk of telling you and then losing you, but you took the choice away from me." He looked up at her then, eyes reddening. "I screwed up. Again. And you were supposed to love me unconditionally in spite of that. And instead…I may have broken us, but you broke me the first time you told me you loved me."

Cuddy couldn't think of anything to say. Everything he'd said was true. She'd told him she didn't want him to change, but that was back when he wasn't taking Vicodin, and it had scared her to think that he was turning back into his old self. The House that didn't want to be loved or cared for, but in trying to distance herself from that House, she'd inadvertently made it happen. She swiped at her eyes quickly and saw him mask the same movement with a pinch to the bridge of his nose. She slowly walked over to him and stood in front of him, reaching out to bring her fingers to his cheeks, lifting his head up so she could catch his eyes, and behind the wild, dilated pupils, she could still just about make out her House. But she wondered if he was willing to be found again.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her thumb and smiling sadly as tears slid down her cheeks. "I thought…you were always trying to push me away so I just assumed-"

"I was." He interrupted. "But you always pushed back, and that wasn't what that was anyway. I told you I was scared, and you made all my nightmares come true." He sniffed and brought his hands up to her hips. "And you're standing right there and I miss you. I need help, Cuddy, and I know I'm not worth it-"

"You are." It was Cuddy's turn to interrupt this time. "You are. I love you, House. I want to help you, I want to take care of you, but you have to let me."

His Adam's apple bobbed and slowly, after a moment, he nodded. Cuddy let out a breath and smiled, properly this time, bending slightly to kiss him, relaxing fully when he kissed back.

"House?"

"Mmm?"

"Why is there blood on the floor?"


End file.
